Chocolate Thief
by Sigma Creations
Summary: Totally AU one-shot set sometime during S5. Another fic inspired by captioning a picture and written at the encouragement of NatesDate and HR always live on. This is really just an excuse to write some smut and have fun with Ruth and Harry, and is in no way intended to be taken seriously. The usual disclamers apply. Hope you enjoy and please leave a review. Cheers, S.C.


It's been one of those days, the ones that never seem to end and keep getting more and more exhausting as time goes by, and to make matters worse, she's been so rushed off her feet that she hasn't even had a chance for a break since a very hurried lunch, hours ago now.

 _I could murder a cup of tea and some chocolate_.

She pulls open the drawer of her desk and looks hopefully inside, but it's no use; she knows there's no chocolate there. She remembers finishing it yesterday... Then she smiles.

 _I know someone who_ does _have chocolate. A whole, delicious bag of chocolate buttons hiding in his desk just_ begging _to be eaten_...

* * *

It's just one of those days, he thinks, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly before leaning back against the seat of the car in exhaustion.

 _I could murder a whisky right about now._

He glances at his watch.

 _Bugger. Too bloody early for whisky._

He promised Ruth, stupid idiot that he is, and now he can't go back on his word. She'd find out and would be disappointed in him. "Shit," he mutters as his driver stops outside Thames House and he gets out, murmuring his thanks to him. His old self wouldn't have minded, he thinks grimly as he enters the building and flashes his badge at security.

 _I'd have done whatever I damn well please regardless of what anyone else thinks._

But since Ruth had come bursting into his life, he's changed. For the better, he likes to think. And it's nice to have someone who cares about him, who worries about him and how many units of alcohol he consumes a day, regardless of how annoying he finds it at this particular moment in time.

 _A cup of sweet tea will just have to do._

Then he remembers the bag of chocolate buttons in his desk drawer and brightens up considerably.

* * *

It's gone! It's bloody gone! Someone's stolen his chocolate buttons, he fumes silently as he pushes his hand further into the drawer and rummages about for a bit without luck. Who would _dare_ come into his office and _steal_...

 _Ruth! That's who._

He swears and slams the drawer shut before turning on his heel and striding out of his office and over to Ruth's desk. She looks up as he approaches and flashes him a smile that immediately softens his heart despite his determination to hold onto his anger. She can't just pinch his stuff like that without asking even if they _are_ in a relationship.

"Ruth," he says without preamble, having reached her desk, "have you by any chance been in my office since lunch time?"

"I'm not sure, Harry," she answers, all sweet innocence. "Why?"

"My chocolate buttons have vanished," he growls, placing his hands palm down on her desk and leaning over it towards her.

"Oh dear," she replies, looking concerned. "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"You didn't eat them and forgot about it, or put them somewhere else?"

"No." He leans closer. "I think you entered my office while I was out and took them, Ruth... Didn't you?"

"Me?!" she asks in a startled voice, her eyes looking huge and innocent. "Why would-"

"Ruth!" he interrupts. "Just answer the damned question! Did you or did you _not_ sneak into my office and steal my chocolate buttons?"

She looks ready to deny it again, but then suddenly she smiles and nods her head. "Okay," she confesses, leaning towards him until her face is close to his. "You've got me. I did. I was hoping you wouldn't notice before I replaced them." Then before he can open his mouth to say anything, she leans back again and adds, "but I left a present for you in exchange... Just in case."

He frowns, thinking back to his search through his drawer, trying to remember if he'd seen anything that Ruth might have left for him, but he can't recall anything unusual, so he asks, "And what was that?"

"Didn't you find it?" she murmurs in surprise.

"No." His frustration is mounting again, so he straightens up lest he be tempted to strangle her or kiss her senseless, something that can't happen here, at work. Later though, he promises himself as he lifts his eyes to glance around the Grid, catching a couple of junior officers quickly looking away. His senior officers are nowhere to be seen.

"Clearly you did a daddy look then," she replies with a smile.

"A _daddy_ look?" he frowns, dropping his gaze back down to hers.

"Yes," she grins. "My mum used to call it that... when you don't look for something properly. She used to ask me, 'Did you do a mummy look or a daddy look?' Clearly you did the latter."

"I see," he murmurs, then quickly making a decision, he adds, "Well, that's easily rectified. Come with me."

"Why?" she almost squeaks, sounding a little alarmed all of a sudden.

"You stole my chocolate buttons, Ruth," he growls, allowing himself a small, triumphant, predatory smile. "You're not off the hook until I say so."

"Right," she nods, nervously smoothing down her skirt before getting up and following him to his office.

* * *

"In the top drawer, you say?" he asks once they're both safely inside his office and the door's closed behind them.

"That's right," she smiles, feeling a little more confident again. She can't wait to see his face when he finds them.

She watches him pull open the drawer and look carefully inside, shifting a few things around before she sees him pause and quickly lift his eyes to hers before returning them to the item she left there earlier and gently pulling it out. "Ruth," he breathes and she sees him swallow hard. "These are your..."

He doesn't seem capable of completing the sentence, so she helps him out, trying hard to suppress her smile. "Knickers. Yes."

He's silent for several moments, still staring down at the knickers in his hands, before clearing his throat and asking, "Does this mean you're not wearing..."

"Any knickers?" she questions, and this time she can't stop herself from smiling. This is so much more fun than she thought it would be. "Yes."

She sees him swallow and notes the tightening of the material around his crotch, a clear indication that he's finding it hard to control himself despite the apparent calmness of his face. "Am I off the hook now?" she asks cheekily, unable to resist the temptation.

He looks at her then, _really_ looks at her, and she can't help how her mouth suddenly goes dry at the intensity of his desire that's clearly visible in his gaze. "Only if you lock the door, draw the blinds, and come here," he all but growls, his voice deep and gravelly with arousal.

It's her turn to swallow hard as she stares into his eyes, knowing that he doesn't expect her to comply, but rather to flee from the room in a panic.

 _Sex at work. What are you thinking, Ruth?! You can't have sex at work. It's not even six yet. There are people outside. People you work with. They'll hear you. They'll know. How will you look any of them in the face again? You can't do this. You just can't!_

"Okay," she hears herself say, "but you'll have to do more than just stand there looking dumbstruck, Harry."

 _What the hell is wrong with you?!_

His eyes widen at her words, giving her confidence to continue. "If you want me to come, that is," she murmurs, pausing for a moment before adding, "here," relishing the double meaning behind her words.

He moves then, slipping her knickers into his pocket and reaching into the drawer once more, lifting a small, black, electronic device and flicking it on, and she recognises it as a signal scrambler. He's just effectively turned off the CCTV in his office, she realises as he sets it on the shelf behind him before striding over to the window, closing the blinds and locking both doors to his office. She watches him do all this quickly and efficiently, moving with purpose and finally coming to stand before her. "Oh, you'll come, Ruth," he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet. "Again... and again... and again..." he assures her, moving his mouth close to her ear as his hands grip her hips and pull her against him.

* * *

He hears her gasp his name as he pulls her to him, overcome by a passion the likes of which he hasn't known in a very long time. Having Ruth is the only thing he can think about, slipping his hand under her skirt, running it up between her legs, up her thighs, feeling her soft, chestnut curls against his fingertips, and plunging his fingers into her centre that will be wet and swollen with want as it always is for him.

"Ruth," he growls, fighting to regain control of himself, "is this what you want?"

"Yes," she replies without hesitations, her voice escaping on a sigh.

"Here? Now?" he insists, knowing he needs to give her an out, the gentleman inside him demanding that he does. This is Ruth, he tells himself, shy and reserved, his beautiful Ruth who usually prefers to make love with the lights dimmed and worries when the bed squeaks too much.

 _But that's not always the case. Sometimes she's bold and likes it hot and rough on the kitchen table, or the sofa, and once, against the wall. Please God, let this be one of those times..._

"Here," she sighs again. "Now. I want you, Harry."

He groans and buries his face in her neck for a moment before he begins to devour her. He's not slow or gentle; he can't be.

Her top and bra fall swiftly away, landing on the floor followed by his jacket, tie and shirt in quick succession, her hands and mouth as impatient as his to be grasping, tasting bare skin. "Fuck me, Harry," she murmurs, reaching down to grasp him through is trousers and then up to unbuckle his belt. He groans, fighting to contain the sound lest their colleagues figure out what's going on.

He grasps her bum and lifts her off the floor, carrying her a few steps forward towards his desk, his hands swiftly gathering her skirt and slipping below it, grasping her bare buttocks as his mouth closes over her ear and his tongue plunges into it, causing her to gasps in pleasure and moan softly. She bites her lip to keep herself from crying out as he deposits her on edge of his desk and his right hand follows the journey he's been contemplating since discovering that she's knickerless.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs huskily, pulling back to watch her face as his fingers slip inside her and she fights to contain her groan of pleasure, her brow creasing with concentration, her eyelids pressed tightly shut, her lower lip caught between her teeth and her whole face flushed with pleasure. "So beautiful." He fucks her with his fingers as his thumb brushes her clit until he can take it no more, his cock straining against his trunks, desperate to be inside her. "I can't wait," he says, huskily as her eyes open to look at him. "I need you. I have to have you."

"What are you waiting for then?" she asks, reaching her hands up to pull his mouth down on hers.

His trousers fall easily to the floor, pooling around his ankles, but his trunks are another matter entirely, and he doesn't succeed in pushing them down until she releases his lips and grabs hold of them herself, pushing them down past his hips as her mouth journeys down to one nipple, her tongue doing exquisite things to him that make him want to groan loudly in pleasure. "Ruth," he gasps in a strangled voice, fighting to remain in control as her hands close around his now throbbing erection, twisting, massaging him perfectly until he can take it no more.

He pulls her hands away, grasping her hips to move her closer and plunging swiftly into her wet pussy as his mouth closes around hers, fighting to contain the sounds of their pleasure. Their coupling is rough, fast, and desperate, the pleasure incredible, the intensity of the moment and the connection between them indescribably good. They're as quiet as the can be, the effort of making no sound making them feel more present in the moment and their coupling even more intense.

Their mouths break apart as the need for oxygen grows, both of them panting, gasping for breath as their gazes meet and hold. "I love you," he whispers, treading his fingers through her hair and pulling her close, feeling her mouth close on his shoulder and her legs wrap more tightly around his middle as his other arm wraps around her waist and he moves his hips forward, thrusting harder, deeper inside her. And then she comes, her nails and teeth digging into him suddenly as her pleasure overtakes her, the pain forcing him to cry out in surprise.

"Ahhhh!" he yells, and then he's coming too, the mixture of pleasure and pain almost undoing him and he has to close his mouth over her slender shoulder too and suck hard to stop himself from shouting his release.

* * *

"Harry?" There's a knock at the door and the handle turns without success. "Everything all right?" It's Malcolm.

He lifts his head and murmurs, "Christ!" blinking once to clear his vision as his eyes focus on Ruth's face who is smiling mischievously and fighting hard to contain a bout of giggles by the looks of things.

"Fine, Malcolm," he calls.

"Right," Malcolm replies. Then there is a pause before he adds, "Only I was performing a check of the system before I go home and your CCTV appears to be malfunctioning. Would you like me to have a look?"

Ruth takes one look at Harry's face and buries her face in his chest, hoping to muffle the sound of the giggles that are now tickling their way up her throat, ready to burst forth at any moment.

"I turned it off, Malcolm," Harry says, making her almost choke as she swallows hard and pulls back to look at him. "I'll explain. Give me a couple of minutes," he adds.

"Fine," Malcolm replies and they hear his footsteps receding, causing them both to sigh in relief.

They look at each other, their eyes softening and their lips meeting in a soft, tender kiss. "I love you," they each murmur, almost simultaneously, causing them both to smile. Then Harry slowly steps back, slipping out of her tender heat and allowing his eyes to roam over her body, seeking to memorise this sight of Ruth perched on the edge of his desk wearing nothing but her skirt bunched around her waist and her boots on her feet, her eyes hooded, sated and full of love for him. He wants to be able to recall this image every time things on the Grid get too much. "You're beautiful," he murmurs.

"So are you," she smiles, and he realises that her own eyes have been similarly engaged in watching him too. "I'm going to think of you like this every time I enter this office now," she grins. "You make quite a picture."

He shakes his head at her and bends over to pull up his trunks and trousers, feeling suddenly a little ridiculous. Out of the corner of his eye he sees her also getting dressed and feels a sudden acute sense of loss.

 _This will happen again. Perhaps not here, or like this, but we'll make love again._

Once they're both dressed, Ruth goes over to his private bathroom, blowing him a kiss from the doorway that makes him feel a whole lot better as he moves back behind his desk, fixing his tie and straightening things out before taking a seat, making sure that nothing's out of place. Less than a couple of minutes later, Ruth waltzes back into the room, moving towards him with a questioning look and a nod towards the camera in the corner of the room.

"I forgot," he confesses, reaching for the black box on the shelf behind him.

"Don't," she objects, causing him to swivel round to face her again. She leans in, pressing a soft kiss against his cheek before adding, "I believe you still have something of mine, Harry."

He smiles and reaches into his pocket, bringing out her black, lacy knickers, but holding them out of her reach as he murmurs, "I'm keeping these until you replace my chocolate buttons."

"Harry!" she objects, forgetting for a moment to keep her voice down. She winces and lifts her eyes quickly towards the window before sighing in defeat. "Okay. Fine. You keep them. I have an extra pair in my bag."

"You do?" he frowns. "Then why weren't you wearing them earlier?"

"Where would have been the fun in that?"

He's about to answer when there's another knock on his door and Adam's voice says, "Harry, are you in there?"

"Yes," he sighs.

"Well, open up. You need to see this."

"I'd better go," Ruth smiles and kisses his cheek again before moving swiftly to the back door of his office, the one he uses to escape the Grid unseen, and quietly slipping out.

"Back into the breach," he mutters, slipping her knickers back into his pocket and getting up, smoothing down and buttoning his jacket, running his fingers through his hair, turning off the signal jammer and slipping it back into his drawer, and moving over to unlock the door for Adam.

* * *

"What's wrong with your shoulder?" Adam asks some time later as Harry straightens up from staring over Malcolm's shoulder at the computer screen.

Four sets of eyes turn to look at Harry's shoulder where the white cotton of his shirt has been stained red with blood. Ruth frowns in concern and blushes, dropping her gaze as she realises that she bit Harry really quite hard earlier. Twelve bags of _giant_ chocolate buttons at least, she promises herself to make it up to him.

Malcolm's eyes dart quickly from Harry to Ruth and back before his gaze drops to the computer, his expression carefully controlled. He suspects something happened between them in Harry's office earlier. He thought he'd heard Ruth giggle, but it's more than his life's worth to let either of them suspect he knows their secret. Not that he has any interest in finding out what exactly it might be. He's explicitly forbidden his mind to dwell on it or use any part of his considerable imagination to try to recreate the events that might have unfolded in Harry's office that could have resulted in the need for the CCTV to be switched off and in Harry's shoulder bleeding.

Harry frowns, craning his neck to see before he shrugs and says, "Is that bleeding again?" Then seeing the expectation on Adam's face adds, "It was Scarlet."

"Who's Scarlet?" Adam asks with a quick glance at Ruth. He thought Harry was into _her_.

"My dog, Adam," Harry replies. "She hates bath day and sometimes gets a little too frantic and careless when trying to get away. I'll see to it when I get home. Now. If there's nothing more, I believe we've all earned a good night's rest." Then he strides out of the room towards his office, looking forward to Ruth fussing over him tonight and taking care of his wounds from their earlier tryst. She's always so repentant when she draws blood. As he slips his jacket back on, he idly wonders how many bags of chocolate buttons this transgression will be worth in her eyes. Rough sex is so rewarding in more ways than one.


End file.
